


Divine Intervention

by Tirlaeyn



Series: To Be Without Regret [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Kink, Episode Fix-it, Episode: s02e12 Tome-wan, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-22
Updated: 2017-11-22
Packaged: 2019-02-05 08:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12790656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tirlaeyn/pseuds/Tirlaeyn
Summary: Tome-wan Fix-it: The last scene in Hannibal's office ends very differently.





	Divine Intervention

**Author's Note:**

> A note on the rating: I wasn't quite sure where this stood, so I went with the stronger rating. Honestly, though, everything is quite mild.

Or.

“Achilles wished all Greeks would die so that he and Patroclus could conquer Troy alone. Took divine intervention to bring them down.”

Hannibal’s words reach into Will's heart, deep into the core of his want, and tug. Eyes look up at him, hungry and expectant, beautiful in the firelight. Will's hands tremble with indecision. 

There is a sense of satisfaction in seeing how well he has lured Hannibal in. He imagines he could get him to do almost anything. Will knows Hannibal can hear the click of the reel and see the fine mesh of the net, but he's yet to notice the hook in his mouth. Will stands ready, rod in hand, waiting for the perfect moment to yank the line taut and sink the hook into Hannibal's cheek. That kind of power is heady and dangerous and oh so tempting.

But the anticipated satisfaction of seeing Hannibal caught, swimming circles in the bucket awaiting the knife, dims and flickers against the immense relief Will still feels at seeing him whole and alive. Tense moments at the Verger farm, and later at his house, tested Will's resolve, forced him to truly see what Hannibal is offering: Achilles and Patroclus against the world, soaked in blood, free and together. He can almost reach inside himself and touch the parts that yearn for that future. They're closer to the surface than ever in these quiet evenings bathed in firelight. 

The hook in his own mouth is cold and sharp.

Will's fingers find Hannibal’s face. They run across his forehead, down his cheek, along his jawline. His thumb glides across Hannibal's lips. Will watches them part and Hannibal’s tongue swipe across his thumb, tasting. Will wants to push it inside, watch those lips as they suck...

 _That's all it would take_ , Will thinks, _give in to this and he’s won. He will have you body and soul. Savage pleasures of hunting and blood and this. And this..._

“This isn't sustainable,” Will says, pulling his hand way.

“Will.”

There's a please there, at once needy and manipulative. Hannibal catches Will's hand and raises it to his lips. Warm kisses on Will's knuckles, a tingling thrill that runs up his arm as Hannibal presses his nose to Will's pulse point and inhales. 

He can hear the reel click, click, click.

A cacophony of reasons and better judgements fill Will's mind. He knows all of them by heart. They speak in many voices, reminding him of his purpose, his reckoning. But they aren't what he wants. Deep in the truth of his own heart, he wants, not just to give in to this moment, but to run away with Hannibal and never look back. 

He leans down until his lips are inches from Hannibal's own.

“Tell me to stop,” Will whispers, his voice breaking.

“Never.” 

The line pulls taut.

Will kisses Hannibal, and all thought falls away. Nothing exists but lips and teeth and tongue. He pulls Hannibal to his feet. Their hands roam, tugging at belts and buttons. Every lie, half truth, and manipulation between them is discarded like so much silk and cotton on the floor. Naked at last, they cling to each other, gasping. 

Bruises cluster on Hannibal's skin, gifts from fighting with Mason's men. Will skims his fingers over them in whispered touches, then presses into a particularly nasty one on Hannibal's side. The sound that escapes Hannibal's lips is beautiful. 

“Reminders that you can hurt me,” Hannibal says. “How do they make you feel?”

“Guilty,” Will says.

Hannibal lifts his head from worrying Will's collarbone with his teeth, and quirks an eyebrow. Will flushes an even deeper red.

“Powerful. Justified. I want to tear them open and lick the blood out of them. Make them mine.”

With a groan, Hannibal walks Will backwards until he hits the ladder. The steps are cold and they dig into Will's naked back. Hannibal licks into Will's mouth, smearing blood across his lips. As he opens for him, Will can taste it hot and metallic as it slides down his throat. A bond and an offering, a blood oath between them, and Will sucks on Hannibal's tongue, swallowing more and more while pressing fingers deep into his bruises. 

Hannibal breaks the kiss to coat his palm in spit and blood. Reaching between them, he takes both their cocks in hand and works them with languid strokes as he claims Will's mouth once again. Will arches with pleasure. He thrusts into Hannibal's grip, needing more, faster. Hannibal catches Will's tongue between his teeth and bites down just enough to make the blood flow, sucking at it as Will did with his. As their blood mingles in his mouth, Will comes, and Hannibal follows soon after. 

They sag against the ladder too exhausted to move. After a moment they make their way to the chaise lounge. Hannibal lies down slowly and pulls Will on top of him. Will settles his head on Hannibal's chest. Hannibal traces patterns on Will's back with his clean hand. Together, they breathe into the stillness. Will listens to Hannibal's heart slow to a normal rhythm.

“Shall we escape under cover of night to conquer other shores?” Hannibal asks.

“Leave Troy to the Greeks and find our own battles? Our own pigs to slaughter?”

“We could feed your dogs. Leave a note for Alana. Almost polite.”

Will closes his eyes. The voices are present but distant, barely audible over the beat of Hannibal's heart. Once more he reaches out to gather the shattered pieces of the man he tried to be, but they won't fit together anymore. All he has is himself. And Hannibal. Hannibal inside of him and himself inside of Hannibal, and the two of them blurring into one. 

“Yes,” Will breathes out. “Take me with you.”

Will raises his head to look into Hannibal's eyes, and he sees the love he has so often pretended not to see. Will kisses him, their blood once again mixing on his tongue, and he is at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> If you're wondering: They get dressed after a bit and drive to Will's house. They do feed the dogs and leave a note, but they take Winston with them. When they leave, they don't drive back to Baltimore. Hannibal plays coy about the 'gift' he has for Will, and refuses to answer any questions beyond that. Will cannot help imagining one awful gift after the next. Finally, they reach the cliff house. Of course, the gift is Abigail! They have a lovely, tear-filled reunion. Will's heart has never been so full. The end.


End file.
